


the stupidity of our endurance

by Merefish



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, if canon wont let these boys be happy, then i will create a world where they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 08:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20422955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merefish/pseuds/Merefish
Summary: "this will not be a memorable night in mylifeor yours.let us celebrate the stupidity of ourendurance."[or Jon and Martin have a quiet night in]





	the stupidity of our endurance

It was an average night at home. Martin sat on the couch, his head in his hands, trying to draw any sort of idea out of his brain to inspire poetry, but nothing was happening. He groaned quietly, frustrated with himself. He hadn’t been able to write anything for so long, so immersed in the Lonely and so busy with all the pointless tasks Peter had sent him on that he had no time for himself. He had hoped that after this long out of the Lonely’s clutches, with his life finally going well for an extended period of time, something would come to him. It’s not like he wasn’t happy, like he didn’t have any sort of inspiration. One glance over at Jon curled into the armchair next to the couch dissuaded any sort of thoughts down that road. Martin continued to look, baffled as always at the improbable ways Jon contorted himself into the chair when he was reading. He claimed it was comfortable, but Martin always doubted him. 

Martin turned back to his notebook, determined to write something, anything. After so long without writing, he feared this would be one more thing taken from him by the Entities that had already taken so much. He refused to admit defeat, desperate to claw back at least this one thing that had been pried away from him, and stared harder at the page, as if it would cause words to spontaneously appear. As he was nearly at the point of giving up, he heard a quiet _ mew _and Jon’s soft laugh. He looked up and found Jon had shifted, somehow sitting sideways in the tiny armchair, with Comrade on his chest staring intensely at his face from a few centimetres away. As much as Jon claimed to not like that cat, Martin knew it was just to save face from allowing Tim to talk Jon into letting him name the cat. As glad as Martin was that Tim and Jon had finally started to make amends, he wished it hadn’t led to so many jokes he didn’t quite get. A small smile creeping across his face, he turned back towards the page.

Martin slowly reached for the pen lying on the table, not quite sure if what was coming to mind was quite what he wanted to say, but anything was better than nothing. He scribbled a few lines on the paper before slumping back on the couch, exhausted from overthinking for so long. Jon finally looked over at him and attempted to climb out of the chair, only stumbling slightly. He walked the few steps over to the couch before dramatically sprawling on it, his head landing in Martin’s lap. Martin’s smile grew wider as he looked down and Jon smiled back and broke the comfortable silence.

“How’s writing going?” Martin’s heart ached with how much he loved the man in his lap. With how lucky he was to end up with him in a world that hadn’t ended in some horrible way yet.

“Pretty well, not that your distractions are helping any,” Martin said, smile not leaving his face.

“I don’t hear you complaining,” Jon said, still smiling as well. Martin chuckled quietly and started running his hands through Jon’s hair.

“And you never will,” Martin promised him, as they settled into the couch, content to just lay there for the foreseeable future. Martin’s notebook sat abandoned on the table, but he wasn’t concerned. He knew that his writing wasn’t gone, and with Jon there to support him he knew he could find it again.

  


“I want to hold you until you realise

how important you are to me…”

**Author's Note:**

> This exists in some funky timeline where Tim is Perfectly Fine, thank you very much. Also Comrade is a creation from Vance (@TritoneHorror) and me trying to brainstorm ideas for titles for their cat’s name before finally going “what if he’s Comrade and has no title”. The title comes from a poem called “A Not So Good Night in the San Pedro of the World” and the poetry fragment at the end is from a bad poem I wrote a few years back, but the first lines worked well so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Come find me @withholdingfrombeholding on tumblr for more tma content, most likely memes and bad ms paint edits


End file.
